


Sub Rosa

by SCFrankles



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Community: watsons_woes, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 03:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6313945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCFrankles/pseuds/SCFrankles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs. Hudson has been keeping a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sub Rosa

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: [Sly](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/1483347.html) at [Watson's Woes](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/) on LJ. I went for the interpretation "on the sly".
> 
> Holmes and Watson are the creations of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> * * *

Holmes paused in his pacing and gestured widely.

“...and that’s how I realised the client’s third cousin was the culprit!”

Watson burst into spontaneous applause from his chair.

“Astonishing, old fellow! I cannot wait to relate this case to your public. Your reputation will be higher than ever!”

Holmes smiled modestly and waved away the praise. “Oh, Watson. You know I’m never interested in the fame.”

“Yes…” said Watson, looking down and fiddling with his buttons.

From downstairs came the sound of the front door opening, and then the sound of a gentlemen being welcomed in by Mrs. Hudson. There was some muffled conversation, and Mrs. Hudson’s footsteps started ascending the stairs to 221B.

Watson smiled up at Holmes. “Seems there might already be another case for you.”

“Ha!” Holmes shrugged off his dressing gown and enthusiastically pulled on his jacket. “I think you might be—”

Both men turned in bemusement towards the door of the sitting room as Mrs. Hudson’s footsteps suddenly sped up into a run.

The door banged open and Mrs. Hudson shot in.

Watson’s eyebrows rose high.

“Mrs. Hudson! Is everything—?”

“There isn’t time!”

Mrs. Hudson chivvied Watson out of his chair and then quickly herded Holmes and Watson out of the sitting room and onto the landing.

Holmes turned to go downstairs.

_“No!”_

Mrs. Hudson flapped her apron at the two men and directed them up the next flight of stairs.

“Mrs. Hudson!” Watson attempted to turn his head to speak to his landlady, as he was impelled up the stairs, Holmes in front of him. “Could you not just expl—?”

But they had reached the top of the stairs.

“In there!”

Mrs. Hudson pushed them into the nearest lumber room, and slammed the door shut. There was the sound of a key turning in the lock and then the sound of Mrs. Hudson scurrying away and back down the stairs.

Watson and Holmes looked at each other.

“Surely,” said Watson, “she can’t have _meant_ to lock us in here...?”

Mrs. Hudson’s footsteps rapidly reapproached.

Holmes smiled. “That does appear to be the correct deduction, Watson.”

The door was yanked opened, and Holmes addressed Mrs. Hudson.

“Perhaps you could tell us, dear lady, exactly what—”

Mrs. Hudson chucked in Holmes’ dressing gown, which hit him full in the face. And before Holmes could remove it, Mrs. Hudson shut the door and locked it again.

Her footsteps hurried away.

“What on _earth_ is going on?” cried Watson.

He put his ear to the door and Holmes joined him.

“I think I can hear Mrs. Hudson taking that visitor into our sitting room…” Watson frowned. “Damn, I can’t hear anything now they’ve gone inside. Can you, Holmes?”

“Sadly, no.”

They waited and after two or three minutes, they heard Mrs. Hudson and the visitor came back out onto the landing.

Holmes frowned in concentration.

“Something about ‘using it for storing junk,’ and ‘yes, I’ll tidy it up…’”

He scowled.

“I really don’t see why our living quarters should be any concern of Mrs. Hudson’s acquaintances.”

The voices of Mrs. Hudson and her visitor retreated back down the stairs. The front door opened and closed, and then Mrs. Hudson rushed back up and came and unlocked their door.

“It’s all right,” she said, slightly out of breath. “You can come out now.”

Holmes and Watson looked at her steadily.

Mrs. Hudson smiled weakly.

 

Once they were all back in the sitting room of 221B, Holmes threw himself into his chair, while Watson faced their landlady.

“Mrs. Hudson,” said Watson, “is there perhaps something you wish to tell us?”

“No… Not… really, sir.” Mrs. Hudson was not quite making eye contact.

“Are you _sure?”_ said Watson calmly.

“It’s nothing really, Doctor. Truly.”

Watson’s smile was rather tight. “Mrs. Hudson, I do think I must insist on knowing why you just locked us in our own lumber room.”

“Well…”

Mrs. Hudson looked down at the ground.

“If you really _must_ know… Well, it’s just… for the past twenty years... Well, I’ve been…”

_“Yes,_ Mrs. Hudson?” said Watson.

She gestured vaguely around and shrugged.

“...I’ve been illegally subletting these rooms to you.”

Watson stared at her. “What?”

“You see, that was my landlord back from Australia. And that’s why I had to—”

“Mrs. Hudson!” Watson’s eyes were very wide. “How on earth could you put us in this position?”

He threw up his hands.

“We could have been thrown out at any time! We could have been left with nowhere to live!”

Watson turned to Holmes, who was seemingly deep in thought.

“I’m shocked! Aren’t you shocked, Holmes?”

“Hmm?”

Holmes came back to himself and looked up at Watson.

“Well, of course I am, dear boy.”

He frowned.

“Mrs. Hudson told her landlord she used 221B Baker Street for storage and he _believed_ her. He’s patently never even heard of Sherlock Holmes.”


End file.
